


Maple Frosted

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Babysitting, Baker Bitty, Bitty is the cookie guy, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, nhl jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 03:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8384770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Neighbourhood baker and "cookie guy" Eric Bittle sees a distressed stranger trying to manage three children.  When he offers to help, he does not expect more than a friendly thank you.  He certainly doesn't expect the kissing.  Or the date.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is all thesegayhockeynerds' fault for inspiring Zimbits with stories of screaming toddlers. ILY!

This was written for @thesegayhockeynerds who is not only my favourite, but also whose inspirational stories of screaming toddlers inspire Zimbits fics.

*** 

Whistling to himself, Bitty hitched his bag up onto his shoulder and began the slow trek to the bus stop. He was running a few minutes late, the bakery’s oven having had a small crisis of not wanting to work for half the morning. But he managed to get Dex over and had it sorted so he could get the afternoon pastries done, and the cookies for the kids.

It was something Bitty wouldn’t miss. Ever. It was a trend he started five years ago when he opened up Itty Bitty Pies. He’d been walking back home one day and had come across a frustrated mother and her upset child. He had a box of leftover peanut butter cookies, and after introducing himself and making sure there were no allergies, he offered one over.

She’d been so impressed, she’d spread the word, and on his next walk home, there was a few more kids. And then more.

Now Bitty was expected. He got to the neighbourhood bus stop with the warm box in his hands just a moment before the bus arrived. He could hear the puffing and whirring, the excited chatter of children, and he put on a smile as he saw the yellow poking up over the hill.

Bitty liked being the cookie guy, he really did. It took the edge off the fact that he felt a little alone. He’d always wanted a family. He’d had big dreams of moving away from his tiny town in Georgia where they passed out oppression along with their bibles and sweet tea, and meeting a nice guy, getting married, opening up his bakery, having a few kids.

Of course one out of four wasn’t too bad. He wasn’t even thirty yet, there was still time.

And for now, he was the cookie guy.

Today’s batch were a warm, soft sugar cookie with a maple frosted glaze. It was a new recipe he was trying for Holster’s hockey team which boasted six Canadians, and he wanted to see if the recipe was decent. Children, being the most brutally honest, with the most discerning pallet, seemed his best chance at an honest opinion.

Leaning against the wall, he waited until the bus came to a stop. Parents of the littler ones began to gather nearby, and out of the corner of his eye, Bitty noticed a new face. A tall, incredibly fit man with stark black hair, and endless blue eyes. His shoulders were wide, arms muscled, and a sleeping toddler on his hip. He looked a bit frazzled, hair in a bit of disarray, and breathing kind of heavy like he’d been running. Bitty found his mouth dry. He wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

He quickly turned his gaze, thinking he probably shouldn’t be lusting so hard after some new dad waiting for his kid. He wondered briefly which house the guy had moved in to.

Another swift glance back and Bitty saw he didn’t have a ring on.

So single dad, maybe? Course that didn’t mean he wasn’t straight and at the very least probably wouldn’t be interested in some small, awkward blonde guy who baked cookies.

Luckily the children all flew off the bus, ignoring their parents in favour of holding out hands and giving their polite pleases and thank yous. Bitty had them well trained, of course. Manners being a little disturbingly under used this far north.

“Alright, y’all, you let me know what you think of these,” he said, pushing one curled fist onto his hip. “I have some good friends I’m makin’ these for.”

“Good Mr Bitty,” Jayden said with a nod. “Like not too sweet, but super yummy. The frosting is a nice tough.”

“Thank you Chef Ramsay,” Bitty said with a wink.

The praise was all round. Bitty smiled and stepped back, and then saw the new guy come up and hold his hand out toward Claire and Matt. “Come on,” the guy said, his words accented. “We need to...”

Before he could finish his sentence, the small child popped up and Bitty realised it was Camille. He had babysat a few times for the Williams’, but he certainly didn’t know this guy.

Before he could ask, however, Camille let out a piercing wail and started kicking her little feet right into the guy’s ribs. “Shhh,” he said, then muttered a long string of what Bitty thought had to be French.

After a moment of watching the guy flail, he took pity on him and held his hands out. “Hey Mille, you want to come here and have a cookie?”

Instantly she quieted and flung herself at Bitty. The guy looked terrified for a second, so Bitty offered a smile. “Hi, I’m Eric Bittle, but everyone calls me Bitty. I babysit these guys every now and again.”

“Crisse,” the guy said, watching as Bitty fed Camille one of the maple cookies. “Is she always you know...like this.”

“No,” Matt piped up. “She just doesn’t like you.”

Bitty frowned. “Well that’s no way to talk to your...” He froze and raised a brow.

“Cousin,” he said. “I’m Jack. Euh...I’m in town for a few days and Marc asked if I’d watch the kids for the night. I think I’m a little out of my element. It’s only been a few hours and I think I’ve lost control completely.”

Bitty chuckled. “How about I walk you guys home?”

Matt and Claire began jumping in place as Bitty hitched Camille higher on his hip. “Yes!” Claire said. “Can you make that thing with the celery and peanut butter?”

Bitty laughed and looked over at Jack who was still frowning, but there was a vague expression of relief there as well. “As long as I’m not puttin’ anyone out.”

“Puh leaseeeee,” Matt said.

Jack shrugged. “I suppose that’s okay.”

They cheered then ran up ahead, tackling the massive hill which left Bitty panting slightly, though Jack didn’t seem to be bothered at all. Camille clung to Bitty quietly, and after a minute, Jack reached over and took the cookie box.

He grinned at Bitty. “So I’m not totally useless.”

“Oh with arms like that, I’m sure you contribute to something somewhere,” Bitty blurted out before realising it. He flushed hotly, but Jack merely chuckled and shrugged.

The walk to the house was awkward and a little tense, but soon enough Jack had the door open and Claire and Matt rushed off to start homework while Camille plopped in front of Sophia the First.

Jack groaned when he heard the DVD begin. “It’s been all day,” he said softly to Bitty who was standing between the kitchen and the living room. “Will she watch anything else?”

Bitty snorted. “Probably not. I usually get her to draw with chalk outside for a bit, or maybe bubbles. If all else fails, they always love helping me bake a pie.”

Jack raised his brows. “I’m fairly useless in the kitchen.”

Shaking his head, Bitty beckoned him along. “Come on then, Mr Williams...”

“It’s euh...Zimmermann,” Jack said, then stared at Bitty almost expectantly, like maybe Bitty should have known that.

He didn’t, and shrugged. “Oh. Sorry, I just assumed. Mr Zimmermann then. I’ll show you my ants on a log treat.” He went to the cabinets to grab the chocolate chips, then the peanut butter, then found the celery sticks in the fridge.

Before long, he and Jack were filling them, then pushing little chocolate chips onto the top. “I mean, it’s not the most healthy.”

“Protein,” Jack said with a shrug.

Bitty almost laughed. “You sound like Marc. He’s always on me about eating more protein.”

Jack sized him up, and Bitty felt his face flush when Jack said, “You look good. Though I always say you can’t have too much.”

Licking his lips, Bitty turned away to compose himself. It was beyond unfair this man was allowed to look this good. To distract himself, he called the kids into the kitchen and he and Jack watched as they devoured the snacks like starved hyenas.

Before long, peanut butter-sticky hands and all, they were gone.

“So um,” Bitty said, dragging a hand through his hair. “If you want me to uh...”

“Could you stay for a bit?” Jack said, looking slightly sheepish, slightly shy.

Bitty laughed. “If it’s all the same, could you just give Marc a call and make sure he doesn’t mind if I stick around?”

Jack nodded. “I was going to. No offence.”

Bitty waved him off, and moved to grab some juice as Jack dialled. After a moment, he heard Jack speaking, but it was entirely in French. He blinked, feeling his mouth dry again, and took in a shaking breath. Fuck Jack was...just. Fuck.

He turned when he felt a tap on his shoulder, and Jack was holding out his phone. “He wants to speak with you.”

Bitty took it and tried to sound like he wasn’t totally thirsting for Marc’s cousin. “Hey Marc. How...”

“Bro, so you met Jack. Nice.”

Bitty flushed. “He seemed a little...out of his element.”

Marc laughed. “Cruel of me, but he was such a shithead growing up, I thought I might as well make this bastard babysit. Millions of dollars a year salary and he gets to wipe the kids’ noses for a night.”

Bitty blinked. “He uh. What?”

“You don’t mind though?” Marc asked.

Bitty shook his head, then remembered he was on the phone. “No it’s...fine. Totally fine.”

“Have fun,” Marc said. His voice was dripping with innuendo Bitty was choosing to ignore. 

The line went dead, and Bitty turned to Jack, holding it out. “He um. Said it was fine.”

Jack offered a sweet, gorgeous smile in return. “Thank you, Eric.”

Bitty blushed again and wanted to melt into the floor. “Um. So he said you make millions of dollars.”

Jack swore in French under his breath--Bitty could tell by the tone. “He’s never going to let me live it down. It’s a normal salary...”

“Um forgive me, Mr Zimmermann, but no it is not. I own a bakery and I do alright but I certainly do not make millions of dollars.”

Jack dragged a hand through his hair and actually looked apologetic. “No I meant for. I uh...play professional Hockey. With the Falconers.”

Bitty’s eyes widened. “Are you shitting me?”

“Ooooooooh,” came a cry from the doorway.

Bitty turned and blushed. “Matt! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

“Mr Bitty said a baaad woooord I’m gonna tell mooooom.” He ran off and Bitty sighed.

“So it’s not just me then,” Jack said with a slightly smug grin.

Bitty sighed. “Shut up.”

Jack laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “How does pizza sound?”

*** 

They got pizza, and let the kids have a little fizzy drink with it. Bitty suggested they go outside to run off their energy, and by eight they had bathed, dressed for bed, and he and Jack took turns reading stories to Camille who eventually fell asleep with her stuffed lion.

“Cute,” Jack whispered from the doorway.

Bitty smiled. “I still have mine,” he said, then flushed when he realised he was admitting to his bunny. Jack just raised a brow, and he shrugged. “Senor Bun. I’ve had him since forever. He keeps the nightmares away.”

Jack stared, his face slightly impassive. “You have a lot of those?”

Leading the way back to the kitchen to tidy up, Bitty shrugged. “Growing up in a tiny town in Georgia...yeah. I was the figure skating gay kid, you know? A walking stereotype and well...kids can be mean.”

Jack sighed, then leant against the counter as Bitty boxed up the leftover pizza. “I get it. I mean...it wasn’t the same for me. But my dad. He was a legend in Hockey and everyone assumed I would be too. But I was never...good enough. One day it all became a lot and I...made a mistake.” Jack’s voice went tense and he sighed. “We all have demons.”

Bitty nodded, trying for a smile. “I guess so.”

“Gets easier though, eh?” Jack asked as he leant over the counter. Bitty slid onto the bar stool and pulled the box of cookies over. “I mean, I can use my position now to draw attention to mental illness and treatment. And...being LGBT in professional sport.”

Bitty blinked, then realised what Jack was doing. “It’s lucky. I mean...that kids can have a role model.”

Jack nodded, reaching over and flipping the lid of the box open. “So what are these?”

Bitty looked down, then laughed. “Maple frosted sugar. My friend Adam...goes by Holster, just made it onto the Bruins’ farm team. I thought I’d make something you know...Canadian.”

Jack lifted a brow, then dug into the box. “I’ll be the judge of that.” He sank his teeth in, and Bitty found himself holding his breath. After a second, Jack groaned. “Crisse these are...amazing.”

Bitty laughed and shook his head. “You think that’s good, you should try my pies sometime. They’re what I’m famous for.”

Jack looked at him carefully. “You live here?”

“Just down the street,” Bitty said.

Jack traced his finger along the counter, just inches away from where Bitty’s hand was resting, and he was biting his lip. “I euh. Well you know Providence isn’t that far off. Maybe I could stop in.”

Bitty, bold and rash, shifted his hand over. The side brushed against Jack’s, then moments later their fingers were tangled together. “That would be nice. I know some decent restaurants around here too. If uh. You wanted to grab dinner sometime.”

Jack leant across the counter, his eyes warm and serious. “I would really, really like that.”

Bitty swallowed, then felt his entire body heat up like it would catch fire when Jack leant in and cupped Bitty’s cheek with his free hand. “You can kiss me,” he blurted.

Jack chuckled softly, then he closed the distance between them and he did.

*** 

Noon rolled round by the time Marc and Nicole walked through the door. The kids flung themselves at their parents, all talking at once. Jack, from his spot on the sofa in front of ESPN, just smiled.

“...and Mr Bitty made maple cookies, then we had ants on a log,” Claire said, climbing her dad’s leg.

“Yeah then we got pizza and went outside, and Jack and Mr Bitty read Camille two stories.” Matt said, glancing at Jack. He got a wicked smirk, a little too much like Marc’s as he then turned and said, “And Mr Bitty made us chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast.”

Marc’s shit-eating grin could probably be seen from space, and Jack rolled his eyes as Nicole tutted and ushered the kids out of the room. Plopping down on his chair, Marc threw his arms behind his head. “So.”

“Nothing happened. It was just late,” Jack growled.

Marc laughed. “But I was right, right? Tell me I was right, you fucking know how much I love to hear it.”

Jack rolled his eyes again. “Fine, yes, you were right. He was cute, and sweet, and I liked him.”

“Now once more in French,” Marc said.

“Mange d’la marde,” Jack retorted, and Marc laughed again.

“When are you seeing him again?”

Jack flushed. “Wednesday. I have an early practise and no games. So I’m driving down and taking him to dinner.”

“Fuck yes,” Marc said. “You two are going to get married and I’m gonna have so many free pies.”

Jack smirked. “Once I marry him, I’ll make sure he charges you double.”

Giggling, Marc shook his head. “You really like him though?”

Jack sighed and smiled, looking down at his phone where he had a selfie of him and Bitty from the night before. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I really like him.”


End file.
